


let it burn

by kurapikano



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, Crime Scenes, Crimes & Criminals, Gen, Graphic Description, Guns, Knives, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:54:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26833255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kurapikano/pseuds/kurapikano
Summary: Being on the run after a crime is no light subject, and, when it's after being saved by a man with a van full of felons and criminals, it becomes a minor annoyance.Really, if that damn guy had kept his mouth shut, Kurapika could be home right now, drinking tea and reading a book.
Relationships: Kurapika/Leorio Paladiknight, Machi/Pakunoda/Shizuku
Comments: 8
Kudos: 23





	1. a perfect day for bananafish

**Author's Note:**

> me needing to update fics: what if i made a new fic
> 
> no, but, really, i'm gonna do my best to update as soon as i can. i apologize for the wait - it just hasn't been coming to me, and i prefer to write when inspiration strikes, so i've done other things. but, as soon as i get that go go juice back, i'll get on it. for now, here's this!
> 
> be warned that there will be graphically violent scenes in this, as well as death. this isn't really lighthearted, and could hold triggers later on. tread safely.

"So...what did you do?"

The back of the absurdly large black van that was crammed with people was cold and uncomfortable, and why they had to be crammed into the trunk with each other was beyond reasoning, really. There weren't any familiar faces, but, considering he'd been stolen away from the scene, Kurapika wasn't shocked. The question from Mr. Teashades was weird, though, and it caused a few turned heads, but it was very clearly pointed at him. Even so, he didn't bother glancing brown eyes at him, blonde hair hanging in front of his face enough to half cover them. However, he figured he'd spare him an answer, just this once.

"Beat someone up. Got too upset, I guess."

A silence came, as if it was expected that he asked the question in return. In honesty, he didn't care right now what some guy with spiked up hair and the worst shades in the world had done, much less the rest of these idiots, and he couldn't bring himself to pretend he did. There was only one person that brought him any interest whatsoever, and it was the kid with scruffy white hair and frighteningly bright ice blue eyes in the corner, acting as casual as ever, like he'd done this hundreds of times before, and it was as familiar as waking up in the morning.

Donned in a baggy hoodie, the kid was only a foot away from Kurapika's spot against the wall, and, as soon as he spoke, the younger seemed to peek up, interest sparked.

"That's pretty tame. What for, though?"

The kid's voice was clearly piqued with interest, and he shook his head to discard the hood down onto his shoulders, tapping his foot leisurely as he waited, clearly expecting an answer. Teashades looked back and forth between them, before staring just as expectantly. With a heavy sigh, Kurapika averted his eyes, leaning his head to the side.

"Does it matter why? I beat him until he was coughing up blood, and I was going to keep it up. Someone called the cops, I got dragged here, that's it. Just like both of you, regardless of what either of you did."

A guy in a wifebeater with wolfish features cast a look over. "I don't believe that. A lil' thing like you beat a guy that bad? Pretty lil' princesses can't do that much damage."

"Is that a fact?" Kurapika murmured, picking absently at the dirt and dried blood beneath his nails. Repulsive, really - deserved, nonetheless. He hoped the bastard rotted. "Why don't you ask J.D. Salinger over there?"

 _J.D. Salinger_ was the one who had stolen Kurapika from the crime scene, a man with a bandage wrapped around his forehead and black hair falling around it. Grey eyes seemed to almost always be stuck to a book, and, judging by the way he acted, he was the head honcho around here.

One nod came from him, and the burly guy shut his mouth.

The white haired boy snickered, folding his hands behind his head and leaning back with closed eyes. "You're funny. Name's Killua."

One cerulean optic opened again, and looked between Teashades and Kurapika.

"Who're you two?"

"What's it matter?" said Teashades, brow twitching. "It's not like we're stickin' around each other. This ain't a damn movie."

"Man, you're a buzzkill," Killua huffed, suddenly looking like he just remembered why he escaped this so many other times - presumably, anyway. "I'll just call you Four Eyes, then."

Teashades - a much funnier name, Kurapika thought - sputtered aimlessly for a few moments, before groaning. "Damn brat."

A long pause slipped through, and Kurapika shrugged. "I've just been calling you Teashades."

"It's Leorio, damn it!"

"Ah. Merry meet, Rioleo."

A cattish grin came to Killua's face, and a snicker followed. "See? I like you. You're not a wet napkin."

"He hasn't said his name yet, either," Leorio muttered, slouching back against the wall of the van.

"Yeah," Killua hummed, turning his head. "But he probably won't whine about it like you."

Actually, Kurapika had had every intention of being stubborn, but, clearly, that wouldn't fly with this newly born group.

"..Kurapika."

"Ah," a velvet voice spoke - it was the leader of the band of misfits. "The glittering light in the darkness, right? The meaning of your name, that is. How poetic."

"That's right."

"My name is Chrollo."

"..Okay, great. I didn't ask."

A large silence sapped over the atmosphere of the back of the van before Killua's cackle rang out, probably partially at the face half of them were making as if treason had just been committed.

"Man, you're too much."

"Miserable as hell," Leorio snorted, amusement in his tone. "And not in the way Edgar Allen Poe over there was thinking, huh? You trying to be Shakespeare over a name meaning you can find in a baby book?" he called over to that Chrollo guy, a grin on his face.

Kurapika blinked, finally looking fully at Leorio, observing his features and focusing on his triumphant chortle.

Killua nudged him, brows raised.

"Careful, you might get a crush on him just because he insulted Forehead over there," he whispered, a sneaky smirk on his lips.

"I will not."

Although, Teashades had a nice face.


	2. the tell tale heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurapika decides he cannot stand most of these people, but, maybe, just maybe, it's enjoyable to annoy one of them in particular.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiiiii

In the span of a day inside the crowded van of misfits, Kurapika had learned a few things.

Feitan, a short guy with a scarf constantly covering his lower face, was adopted from China and was bilingual; Pakunoda was probably the most bearable one, as she seemed to have some semblance of sense about her; Uvogin was entirely brawn and passed gas comparable to a biohazard; and Chrollo was the most annoying person Kurapika had ever had the misfortune of meeting. 

He spoke as if he were writing a poem, and that was not a positive statement. It was a show of dramatics that drove Kurapika up the wall, as well as his newly acquired companions - he wasn't calling people friends just yet - and the rest of them...seemed to be okay with it.

That left him to wonder what kind of sickeningly bad taste they had, but, frankly, considering they were all criminals, he couldn't deduce that it was anything good. So, he pretended they didn't exist, instead sticking to the boy with white hair and the guy with ugly teashades.

Killua was always texting back and forth with a kid back home, excitable and obsessed with frogs. A few times, now, a video call had come through, and Kurapika had suffered having his ear talked off. Socialization left him miserable and sapped of energy - irritable bastard that he was - and he simply had no interest in hearing about the many types of frogs and their identifying features. That said..

Gon, the kid, had undeniable charm, the kind that reeked of childhood wonder and sunshine. Kurapika envied that, or maybe he wanted to protect it; his had been ripped away, for the most part.

His heart throbbed at the thought just as Leorio nodded at him, brow raised.

"What's wrong, ya sour bastard? You always look so- solemn."

Kurapika just glared.

"Perhaps a tortured soul like the rest of us," came a voice like nails and bolts on metal, "I surmise we're all just broken people, ruined by society, and-"

"Yo, Jason Dean. We get it."

Silence fell after Leorio's statement, and Killua snickered from where he was tucked in the corner, hood over his head. "From that cult classic movie? Heh."

Kurapika thought for a moment that, maybe, just maybe, Leorio was alright, if not a little...ah, simple-minded, maybe. He wasn't stupid, surely — he couldn't be, if he had enough comebacks to silence the damn philosopher in the corner — but he was definitely not the type that thought too hard before speaking, something gritty and reckless.

Maybe that was an attractive quality, but Kurapika would never admit as much, despite himself.

.  
.  
.

After about thirty more minutes of being in the corner of the unbearably cramped hell on wheels that was the vehicle Kurapika was in, they slowed to a stop. Killua's eyes flickered to the adults, a brow raised curiously.

"What are we stopping for?"

Feitan's eyes shifted to the boy, voice muffled by the collar hiding his lower face. "Gas station. Food. Drink."

Well, Kurapika knew he was a person of few words, now.

When they all clambered out of the back, Leorio groaned loudly, stretching. A few concerning pops of his joints not really appropriate for a man his age echoed, and most everyone turned to look, but Killua paused in the middle of bending his right leg back in a brief refresher to burst out laughing.

"What's so funny, brat?!" demanded the older, looking incredibly offended.

"You really are old, uh...L...whatever your name was."

"Leorio!"

"Yeah, yeah, right. Maybe your old man memory loss is rubbing off on me."

"You little—"

Kurapika sighed and walked between them, swatting them both on the side of the head — not enough to hurt, but enough to make it clear he wasn't interested in the obnoxious shouting and taunting in the middle of a gas station parking lot.

He pointed ahead, towards a shady building with flickering neon lights. The others were already inside, and he began walking forward in strides, eyes rolling.

"Maybe you should quit wasting time."

Before either of them could answer, his brisk steps had already carried him to the door.

.  
.  
.

Inside, the gas station was cold, and he regretted not tugging along a fleece in his satchel that morning. Just to check, he slipped his hand past the yellow-white-purple-black flag pin, popping the snap button open to sift through his belongings.

Chapstick, his cell phone, a spare charger, a car attachment for it, spare change, a bundle of paper bills — no source of warmth.

He shut it with a huff, rubbing his hands over his arms as he walked to the drinks.

After a long internal debate over whether he should try to look like a healthy person and buy water or just get an energy drink like usual, he settled for the latter, if only because he was exhausted. Besides, Pakunoda seemed to be having Machi help her lug a few cases of water to the counter, so...it was probably fine.

He snagged a pack of gum and a bag of trail mix before he decided that was well and enough, and went to stand in line behind the two girls. A sigh passed through his lips, and he almost relaxed himself a little.

Almost, because, seconds later, he heard Leorio's voice behind him.

"You know those aren't really great for you, right?"

Kurapika turned his head to glance up and over his shoulder, scowling. "Wow. I never knew."

Leorio blinked, before furrowing his brows. "Well, you don't have to be such an ass. I'm just sayin', that crap can fuck up your heart."

"Thank you. I'll remember your words of warning when I'm wheeled into cardiology."

"How do you manage to say the most annoying, haughty shit? No wonder you get in fights."

The shorter of the two rolled his eyes, turning his sight back to being straight ahead, stepping forward as his turn to pay for his goods arrived.

"Wh- You just ignore- God, you're irritating," the older muttered, and Kurapika could practically see the disdain and perturbed grimace in his mind.

Of course, that made no difference to him. In fact, just a little bit..

..It might have been amusing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nonbinary pika supremacy i hope everyone caught that


	3. how do i love thee?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rubies burn with fiery passion, but they need to be treasured, too, like any other jewel.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello lpk nation things are about to get sappy and soft for a hot minute. confess already losers
> 
> tw for violence and ableism (mentioned in passing)

The van was as cluttered and crowded as ever, and Kurapika had to wonder why none of them were smart enough to invest in a bigger vehicle for transport. The air was stuffy and uncomfortable, and he was actually going to go nuts if he had to listen to Uvogin chew  _ one more _ corn chip with his mouth open.

Before he did anything drastic and caused unrest, he let his lips curl into a sneer as he looked away and sipped on his energy drink, ignoring the slight tremble of his limbs and electricity shaking down his spine. That happened every time, and he hadn't gone into any critical lack of health yet, so he'd keep pushing it for the spike of energy.

The humid air made the back of his neck feel sticky, which he despised, despite his hair being tied into a bun to let the cool air that  _ did _ sweep through every now and then dry it away. That was clearly not working, and he glanced to Machi, who seemed to immediately notice.

"What?"

"Water bottle."

There was no need for more words than that. She tossed one over to him, and he caught it, pressing it behind his neck and backing against the wall to hold it there. She must have thought that was a smart move, because she did the same after what looked like a moment of contemplation.

Killua had dozed off in the corner in some form of a chocolate coma, white tufts of hair messily draping about. Some of it was puffy from the humidity, and Kurapika grimaced, because they both had wavy hair, and he did not particularly want to look like a blonde poodle.

Leorio was far luckier, spikes of black hair remaining normal and fairly intact, and button up shirt undone a few buttons. Kurapika tried not to stare, he really did, and Leorio proved to be helpful when he jutted his chin in a gesture towards the self-proclaimed leader of the group.

"Hey, you. Where are we goin' anyway?"

The other black-haired male glanced up nonchalantly, shrugging with a fakely saccharine smile. "Away. Far away. No exact plans. We'll stop when we stop."

"Tch," Leorio scoffed, rolling his eyes and looking the other way again, directly at the wall of the back of the vehicle.

Kurapika was silent for a moment, before he scooted a little closer to Killua, which had him closer to Leorio — the true objective.

"It's ridiculous, isn't it," he whispered, averting his gaze to the floor. He feigned disinterest, but, really, he was almost a little shy. It was only because of his peripheral vision that he noticed Leorio blink in surprise at him before relaxing, though still looking taken aback, a little.

"..Yeah."

A beat of silence passed before the older seemed to be reinvigorated with his stubborn anger, gesturing in frustration by tossing his arms up.

"I mean, really? No plan? No plan at all? That's like asking for trouble," he grumbled, though staying as hushed as an irked man could. "Asking to get caught. What, are we gonna check into the Ritz as people the law wants to nag? No fuckin' way. Not like I'd rather have gotten snagged there, but, seriously? They could try a little damn harder, with so many peoples' futures on the line. It's like he's not even trying in the first place!"

Kurapika's eyes drifted up to him by the middle of the rant, and, as Leorio finished, they locked eyes for a second.

"..So. You almost got the kick for beating someone up?"

"Mhm," Kurapika hummed, pulling up one of his socks to adjust it from where it had bunched up. His ankles were getting skinnier — he'd have to quit running around so damn much. "I didn't want to tell any of these guys, but my friend is blind and can't walk that well. Some wise guy decided ableism was funny, so I beat him up."

He shuffled with the fabric for another moment before stilling.

"I get too angry, sometimes. Or...too  _ violent _ , I guess. I don't know why. I just blacked out, and when I knew what I was doing again, the guy was on the ground and bleeding pretty bad."

"Deserved."

"You think so, too?"

"Duh," Leorio laughed, as if Kurapika hadn't just admitted to beating the daylights out of someone.

But, maybe, then, that meant it wasn't bad. Maybe it meant he didn't have to feel guilty.

Maybe it meant someone wasn't afraid of him.

In the midst of his awestruck gazing, he was hit with a shiver, and he wondered how humidity and chills dared coexist.

Leorio seemed to notice, brows rising.

"You cold?"

"A little."

"Hold on," the taller grunted, moving to dig into his bag. He pulled out a rolled up jacket, not horribly heavy, but enough to provide good warmth, and held it out to Kurapika. "Here. Use this."

Kurapika blinked owlishly, and he spared a thought to what a fool he had to look like, before he shook his head.

"No, no — I couldn't."

"Oh, take it, ya bastard," he exhaled exasperatedly, but Kurapika swore he heard a hint of fondness in there as it was thrown at his person. He made a small  _ oomph _ noise as it hit his chest, but grasped onto it with spindly fingers, noting that it very narrowly missed his drink.

For once, he decided not to complain.

He put it on carefully, tugging it around himself afterwards like a blanket. It was huge on him, no doubt, which came as no shock, considering Leorio was built so wide and tall. The sleeves were too long, but it was rather comfy with just his fingers peeking out of them. He tried not to melt into the warmth too obviously, but it didn't matter, probably, because Leorio was staring at him like gemologists stared at deep red rubies, stricken and almost...stunned, maybe.

Kurapika felt his face heat up, which was not good, but it  _ was _ good that Killua was asleep, lest he become the damn matchmaker and act like Cupid's right hand man.

"..Is something wrong?"

Leorio snapped out of his haze, and Kurapika almost felt his core whine at the loss of the intent stare, having somewhat enjoyed being looked at like a beautiful and precious thing.

"No- No! Just- was thinking."

_ About what?,  _ Kurapika's heart begged to pry,  _ About me? About seeing someone wear your jacket like some cheesy film? Is someone messed up like me really that captivating? _

_ Do you really think I'm beautiful enough for a gaze like that? _

But he didn't pry, just let things fall silent as he nestled into the wall, ignoring the water bottle that rolled across the floor, long forgotten in favor of the oversized coat.

He was lulled to sleep by the scent of handsomely attractive cologne.


End file.
